Writer’s Mind, Beginner’s Mind

When I was in high school (many, many years ago), my math teacher told us about a consulting group whose special expertise was that they didn’t know anything – they hadn’t been to university or any other institute of higher learning. It wasn’t that they were stupid. They just hadn’t accumulated much of what we consider traditional ‘knowledge’.

So why would anybody hire a group like that? Because when you gather knowledge, you gain something, but you also lose something. The knowledge limits your view of the world because if you believe A to be true, it’s implied that its opposite is not true. The consulting group above were hired because they could look at a problem with no preconceived notions, and therefore come up with solutions that a ‘knowledgeable’ person might not even consider.

A popular book on Zen titled ‘Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind’, implies much the same thing. You have to forget everything you know in order to open your mind to enlightenment.

It seems to me that writers, or artists in general, have to do a similar purging of their preconceptions, especially when trying to come up with new ideas. Our education, our jobs, our prejudices, our life experiences, all crowd in on us leaving little room for anything new. Difficult as it is, we have to clear away the clutter in our minds, even if only for part of the time. We need to be tracking, like an antenna, sensitive to every idea that gets beamed our way, and the channel has to be open – free of the static of preconceived notions or beliefs, or any other interference.

Not that I’m an expert at this process, but I have found that by being open to ideas, no matter how far-fetched or outrageous, has allowed concepts for stories to come much more easily, though usually at completely unexpected times.

Sometimes it’s an image – I got the idea for my first novel, Eldorado, which takes place in a resource-starved future, when I went to a gathering in downtown Vancouver and saw a huge expanse of the city empty of cars.  Sometimes it’s a random occurrence. I got an idea for a yet-to-be-written novel when I misread the title on a community college course because I didn’t have my glasses. One of the most bizarre was the idea for my fourth novel, Vita Aeterna, which came to me when I was talking to my cat (yes, I am strange).

What these events all have in common is that I was open to them. I was waiting for them. I wanted them. I believe we, as artists, have to cultivate that waiting, Beginner’s Mind, so that we’ll be ready the next time we forget our glasses, or the next time we find ourselves talking to the cat.